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father poem

do i like it
why so sad my lovely one?
i love my hour of wind and light
high-born race
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
wheel me down by the meadow
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
hang no wreath
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
the fragrance came
no prey am i of poor thoughts
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb

 



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